Reid's Eleven
by Zabe Rogue
Summary: /Based on the movie Ocean's Eleven/ Fresh out of jail, Spencer Reid's got a plan for a heist: Eleven people, three casinos, 160 million and a whole lot of chaos! Crossover, Multiple Pairings. Please Review.
1. Chapter 1

**Reid's Eleven**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

* * *

_**Daniel Ocean: Spencer Reid (CM)**_

_**Rusty: Gatsby Algérnon (OC)**_

_**Frank: Derek Morgan (CM)**_

_**Ruben: David Rossi (CM)**_

_**Virgil and Turk: Shawn Spencer (Psych) and Eliot Spencer (Leverage)**_

_**Basher: Aaron Hotchner(CM) and Ziva David (NCIS)**_

_**Livingston: Penelope Garcia (CM)**_

_**Yen: Parker (Leverage)**_

_**Saul: Jason Gideon (CM)**_

_**Linus: Ashley Seaver (CM)**_

_**Terry Benedict: Ian Doyle (CM)**_

_**Tess: Emily Prentiss (CM)**_

* * *

_**VIRGINIA STATE PENITENTARY**_

* * *

"State your name for the record."

"Dr. Spencer Reid."

"Dr. Reid, what compelled you to steal?"

"Well, my wife left me. And I saw some ancient tiki mask from the Samoan tribes I just had to have."

"Do you think you'll steal again?"

"She left me once, I don't think she'll leave me again just for kicks."

"Dr. Reid, do you believe you are rehabilitated for society?"

Dr. Spencer Reid paused.

The doors to the prison opened and Spencer was a free man. After one year, he finally tasted fresh air. Contemplating on what to do next, Spencer hailed a taxi to take him to the train station.

* * *

_**NEW YORK**_

* * *

The casino was filled with gamblers as Spencer walked through it. He made his way to the blackjack table and sat down.

"Chips, please," he said.

"Good Luck," the dealer said as she handed him his chips.

"Thank you," he replied. He looked over her shoulder to see a tall, dark man with muscular built and a baldhead who was talking to a manager. He had a meaningful expression on his face.

"Twenty. Dealer has nineteen; good start." The lady was then relieved from her post and the Tall, Dark man took her place. "I'm going on break now."

"How are you sir?" Asked the new dealer.

"Hello, Derek," said Spencer and Derek looked a little bit shaken.

"I beg your pardon, sir; you must have me confused with someone else. My name is Jonathan, as you can see right here." He pointed to his nametag that said "Jonathan." Spencer just smirked making his hazel eyes look a bit dangerous; especially with his cocky smile.

"My mistake," he said.

"No problem, sir," Derek smiled politely.

"The table's cold anyway."

"You might want to try the lounge at Caesar's; it gets busy after 1:00."

"1:00?" Spencer asked as he stood up.

"Yes, sir."

"Thanks, Jonathan," Spencer said as he left.

"Thank you." The man shook his head and got back to dealing.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Spencer was sitting at the bar looking at the newspaper and drinking a jack and coke as Derek walked up to the bar.

"Checking up on current events?" Derek asked.

"Jonathan," Derek replied dryly as he flipped the page.

"Good to meet you. "Derek Morgan can't get past the gaming board," Derek said as he sat down. "You just got here?"

"This afternoon. You've seen her?" Spencer still didn't look at his friend. Derek smirked at him as he ordered his drink.

"Last I heard she was teaching young celebrities how to play poker. Why? You got a plan already?"

"Are you kidding? I just got back," Spencer said dryly and Derek laughed.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

A petite, brunette young woman in her mid-20s was eating nachos outside of a club while waiting for one of her clients.

"Hey, G!" It annoyed her to no end when she was called that. "Gatsby, what's up, girl?" Miley Cyrus got off her silver Beetle and walked toward the back entrance to the club with her companion. "Let me ask you a question: are you incorporated?" Gatsby just shook her head and laughed. "Well, you should think about it. I talked to my manager…"

"Danni?"

"Not Danni; my business manager. Actually, they're both named Danni. Anyway, she said what we do could be considered research for a future job, so I could make it a tax write off. The one thing is, and this is her thing and it's stupid, but I'd have to pay you by check." Gatsby looked at Miley as if she were crazy and stayed silent. "Or we could just stick to cash." Gatsby nodded. "Yeah, let's just stick to cash." They entered the club and went to the back room.

Gatsby tried to teach these Hollywood movie and music stars how to play poker but they were all helpless. Josh Hutucherson kept folding, Jennifer Lawrence was bad at bluffing and Miley had a bad hand. She took a break and went to the bar to get her a drink and watch some dancers.

"How's the game?!" the bartender shouted.

"Longest night of my life!" Gatsby replied.

"What?!"

"I'm running away with your wife!"

"Oh, cool!"

Gatsby shook her head. After a while, she came back in to see a tall, lanky brown-haired guy sitting at the table with the stars.

"Isn't that hard; shedding the _Hannah Montana _Persona?" asked the new guy.

"Not for me, dude," said Miley as she noticed Gatsby. "Hey, G; we got another player…if that's cool with you."

"It's fine," Gatsby said softly as she sat back down at the table. They talked about Spencer's life as a genius as they played poker. Then they talked about Spencer's stint in jail.

"What were you in jail for?" Selena Gomez asked.

"I stole something," Spencer replied.

"What did you steal?" Josh asked.

"I stole Ancient Tiki Masks from Samoa."

"Are they worth anything?" Miley asked.

Spencer started to reply when Gatsby cut him off. "Millions." She said. "That is, if you can pick them up off the ground."

"I didn't know that at the time." Spencer reasoned.

"Guys, what's the first rule of bluffing?" Gatsby asked her clients.

"Always spot a tell?" Selena imputed.

"That's right, Selena."

Spencer easily won the game with Gatsby's unnoticed help. Gatsby walked outside and Spencer discreetly followed her. They walked down the street and to Gatsby's blue Lexus.

"_I'm bored," _Gatsby said as they started driving. She was only ever comfortable talking with Spencer and two other people besides David.

"You look bored," Spencer chuckled.

"I am bored." She sighed. "So tell me, how was the trip? Did you get the cookies I sent you?" Gatsby's snarky, playful, flirtatious side was coming out.

"Why do you think I came to see you first?" They walked into a small, dark coffee shop and sat at a table after getting their drinks.

"So tell me," Gatsby said.

"It's tricky; never been done before. It'll need planning and a large crew."

"Guns?" Gatsby asked, curiously.

"Not quite; high security. The take…"

"What's the target?"

"Eight figures each." Spencer was avoiding the question.

"What's the target?" Gatsby persisted.

"When was the last time you've been to Vegas?"

"You wanna knock over a casino?" Gatsby asked, incredulously. Spencer shook his head and held up three fingers and Gatsby almost choked on her coffee, laughing.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Spencer and Gatsby were in a building looking over the plans to a casino. "The vault at the Bellagio," Spencer said grandly. Gatsby made some noises that would be classified as awe and frustration.

"If I'm reading this right, and I'd like to think I am, this is probably the least accessible vault ever designed."

"Yep," Spencer said, simply.

"You said three casinos?" She only saw one vault.

"These go into the Mirage and the MGM Grand but every dime ends up there."

"Okay, the Bellagio and the Mirage…wait a minute. These are Ian Doyle's places."

"Yes, they are." Spencer confirmed. Gatsby sighed. "Do you think he'll mind?"

"What do _you _think?" Gatsby scoffed.

"So, what are we looking at here?"

"You'd need at least a dozen guys doing a combination of cons."

"Like what, you think?"

Gatsby shrugged. "Off the top of my head?" I'd say you're looking at a Boesky, a Jim Brown, a Miss Daisy, two Jethro's and a Leon Spinks. Not to mention the biggest Ella Fitzgerald ever. Where will you get the money to back this?"

"Hit these three casino's we'll get out bankroll. Doyle's got a long list of enemies."

"Yeah, but enemies with lots of cash and nothing to lose?" Gatsby then got a smile to her face. "Rossi."

"Rossi," Spencer replied.

Soon, a Flashlight shone, blinding them both. Spencer shielded his eyes to see Dwayne the Security guard making his rounds.

"Dwayne, point that thing somewhere else will ya?"

"Sorry, Reid. Just doing my job," Dwayne replied. "You guys got what you wanted?"

"Yeah, we're just going to take these blueprints if that's alright with you."

"Cool. Just bring them back Monday."

Spencer nodded as they took the plans and made their way toward the elevators. Gatsby looked a little bit perturbed and was still shy about asking questions. Even with Spencer.

"What?" asked Spencer when he noticed his best friend's face.

"I need a reason. And don't say money; why do this?" Gatsby was truly curious as to why Spencer wanted to do this specific job.

"Why _not _do it?" Gatsby shook her head. She needed a better reason. "Because I just left Quantico after losing a year of my life and you're teaching poker to _Teen Beat_ cover boys." Gatsby reluctantly nodded. "Because the House always wins. Play long enough you lose your focus. Unless, when that perfect hand comes, you bet big. Then you take the House."

"You practiced that speech and took that from a movie, didn't you?" Gatsby asked, amused.

"A little bit, did I rush it? Felt like I rushed it."

"No, it was good; I liked it. The _T__een Beat _thing was a little harsh though." They got into the elevator. "I wonder what Rossi will say."

Spencer also wondered what David Rossi would say.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

_**LAS VEGAS**_

* * *

"You're out of you're minds!" David Rossi said. He, Gatsby and Spencer were eating lunch on his patio by his pool. Rossi came from a rich Italian family plus he was a successful writer so he had a lot of money. "Are you listening to me? Both of you are idiots. I know more about casino security than any person alive; I invented it. It cannot be beaten. They have cameras, they have guards, they have locks, they have timers, and they have vaults. They have enough armed personnel to occupy _Paris!" _He thought over his words for a moment. "Okay, that was a bad example."

"It's never been tried," Spencer replied.

"It's never been tried," Rossi mocked. "Have I taught you nothing, Son? It's been tried; a few guys even came close. Do you know the three most successful robberies in Las Vegas? Number Three: Mickey Dorsey grabs a lockbox at the Horseshoe. He got two steps closer to the door than any living soul before him.

"Second most successful robbery: The Flamingo in '71. This guy actually tasted fresh air before they grabbed him. Of course, he was breathing out of a hose for the next three weeks."

"And the closest _anyone _has come to robbing a Las Vegas casino was outside Caesar's in '87. He came, he grabbed, they conquered. But what am I saying; you guys are pros, the best. I'm sure you can make it out of the casino. Of course, lest we forget, once you're out, _you're still in the middle of the freaking desert!" _ Rossi went back to eating his salad, shaking his head all the while and muttering about how his two godchildren were idiots.

"You're right," said Gatsby as she turned to Spencer. "He's right."

"Uncle Dave, you're right; our eyes were bigger than our stomachs," said Spencer with a bright smile. Rossi became weary as he saw it. He was up to something.

"That's exactly what it is, pure ego," said Gatsby and Rossi rolled his eyes with an amused smile.

"Thanks again for lunch," Spencer said.

"Yeah," agreed Gatsby. "It was delicious."

"Sorry to bother you," said Spencer as he and Gatsby got up and started to walk out.

"Look, Spence," said Rossi, "you're my godson and I love you. And know that I'll support you when you actually make some sense. You two are geniuses so I'm sure you'll figure out how to do this heist. Give the butler your addresses; I have some paintings to send you." He paused before continuing. "Just out of curiosity, which casinos did you kids pick to rob?"

"The Bellagio, Mirage, and the MGM Grand," Spencer replied and Gatsby smiled as they heard Rossi's silverware fall to the plate.

"Those are Ian Doyle's places," said Rossi as he walked toward them.

"Is that right?" Gatsby asked Spencer sarcastically.

"Yeah, Gatz, I think so," said Spencer while trying to hide a smile.

"You guys, what do you have against Doyle?" Rossi asked suspiciously.

"The question is what do _you _have against him?" Spencer retorted

"He took my casino by force, mind you. Now he's going to tear it down to make way for some Irish-themed monstrosity." He said this all in a slight rush. "I see what you're doing," Rossi said with narrowed eyes.

"What _are _we doing?" asked Gatsby with a smile.

"If you're going to steal from Ian Doyle, you better damn well know…these things used to be civilized; but with Doyle…at the end of it, he'd better not know that it was you who was involved. Not you're name or who you're working with because he'll kill you, and then go to work on you."

"That's why we're going to be very careful, very precise," Spencer replied as he put an arm around his godfather.

"Yep, and well funded," put in Gatsby as she too threw an arm around her godfather.

"Yeah," said Rossi, "you have to be nuts too; and you're going to need a crew as nuts as you are. Who do you have in mind?" They all smiled at each other.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

_**LOS ANGELES**_

* * *

Gatsby and Spencer were sitting in a café overlooking the ocean.

"Alright," said Gatsby. "Who's in?"

"Derek's in," Spencer said. "He has bronchitis and is putting in a transfer for warmer climates."

"Or so he says," Gatsby laughed.

Spencer chuckled. "Drivers?"

"I talked to the Spencer Brothers," Gatsby replied.

"Shawn and Eliot?"

Gatsby nodded. "They're both in Santa Barbara, off the job. I think they're having trouble filling in the hours."

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

_**SANTA BARBARA**_

* * *

A small remote control truck was at the starting position of an abandoned stadium. A life size version of it soon pulled up next to it and the driver was waiting impatiently.

"Waiting, Sweetheart, just waiting," Eliot said from inside the truck.

"Good, go," Shawn retorted.

"I'm waiting for you."

"Why?"

"_Go _already, dude!" Eliot whined.

"Relax."

"I'm gonna get out of this car and drop you like I dropped third period French, if you don't go."

"Why, afraid that you'll be my slave for a whole week?"

Shawn then made the remote control car go and it was doing good until Eliot used his truck to smash it. Eliot laughed as Shawn shook his head, resisting the urge to punch his brother in the face.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

"Electronics?" Spencer asked.

"Garcia; she's been doing surveillance for the FBI mob squad," Gatsby replied. Spencer looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Times are tough."

"How are her nerves?"

"Not so bad that you notice."

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

_**BALTIMORE**_

* * *

Penelope Garcia was watching some surveillance footage and fidgeting with her troll when she noticed a couple of "FBI Idiots" messing with one of her cameras.

"D-don't touch that!" She exclaimed.

"What?" One FBI agent looked confused.

"That is very delicate, so don't touch that."

"Lady, it's just a camera."

"Do you see me taking you're gun out of your holster and swinging around?"

"Hey, RadioShack. Relax." The other agent said.

Garcia sighed, wondering how in the world she got herself in this mess. Suddenly, her phone vibrated. She looked and saw a text from an unknown caller. All it said was: "New job. You interested?"

"God bless you, Gatsby." She breathed.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

_**LOS ANGELES**_

* * *

"Munitions?" Gatsby asked.

"Kate Todd." Spencer said instantly.

"Dead."

"No shit! On the job?"

"Skin Cancer."

"You send flowers?"

"Dated her brother for a while."

"Bonnie and Clyde are in town."

"Hotch and Ziva?" Spencer nodded. "There might be a slight issue with availability." Gatsby warned.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

_**SAN FRANCISCO**_

* * *

The vault was rigged and ready to go.

"Alright, guys," Aaron Hotchner said. "Hang on to your asses." He turned to his fiancée. "You're ready, baby?"

"I'm ready, Hotch." Ziva David smiled.

"Light 'em up."

Ziva then detonated the bombs and the vault was opened. They stepped in the vault and started to make out only to hear the sound of the alarms going off.

"What the hell?!" Ziva exclaimed.

"You idiots!" Hotch said, angrily. "You had _one job _to do!"

Ziva and Hotch were being lead out by a SWAT officer

"That's all you used in the event right?" asked the police officer.

"Wait a minute, are you accusing us of booby-trapping?" Ziva asked incredulously.

"Well, how 'bout it?"

"Booby traps aren't Mr. Hotchner and Ms. David's style. Isn't that right, Bonnie and Clyde? Evita Schuler, ATF." Gatsby was holding up a badge. "Let me guess: Simple G-4 mainliner, back wound, with a quick fuse drag under 20 feet? Let me ask you something else; did you check these scumbags? I mean _really _search, not just for weapons. Stand back."

"Here we go," Hotch grunted as he was shoved against the squad car.

"Aaron!" Ziva gasped.

"Find Briggs, tell him I need to see him."

"Who?"

Just find him, will ya?" Gatsby said frustrated.

"Hey Hotch, hey Ziva." Gatsby whispered.

"Hey Gatz." Hotch whispered.

"That was some good acting," Ziva commended.

"Thanks," to Hotch, Gatsby asked. "How quickly you can put something together with what I just slipped you?"

"It's done." They started to walk casually away from the scene.

"Is Reid about?" Ziva asked.

"Yeah, he's around the corner, waiting."

"Great," Hotch said. "It'll be good to work with proper villains again. At least you know what you're doing."

The squad car started to smoke.

"Everybody down!" Gatsby shouted as she, Hotch and Ziva started to run.

"Ha! They weren't expecting that shit!" Hotch laughed.

"Nice work." Gatsby handed them the keys to the cuffs.

"Thanks, Algérnon."

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

_**BOSTON**_

* * *

Spencer and Gatsby were at the circus and watching the performers.

"Which one is the _Illustrious Parker?" _asked Spencer.

"The little, petite white girl." Gatsby replied.

Spencer looked confused. "There's three of them."

"The one in the middle," Gatsby sighed.

"_Her? _She looks fourteen."

"She's _nineteen._"

Spencer didn't look all that impressed.

"Who else is on the list?"

"She _is _the list."

"I don't know. She doesn't seem all that diff…"

He got cut off as Parker did an amazing leap and flip in mid air, landing safely on the ground.

Spencer's mouth gaped. "We got a grease man."

"We got a grease man." Gatsby smirked and clapped her hands."

"We need Gideon," said Spencer.

"He won't do it," Gatsby replied. "He got out of the game a year ago."

"Why, did he get religion?"

"Ulcers."

"You could ask him," Spencer pointed out.

"Hey, I could ask him," Gatsby said sarcastically.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

_**TAMPA BAY**_

* * *

Jason Gideon got his betting cards and headed to his seat. He didn't notice the young woman, around 24 or 25 following his every move. Or so he _pretended _not to notice. Gideon knew who this woman was, he just didn't know why she was here. The brunette woman made her way to where Gideon was sitting and smiled.

"I saw you when you made your way to the betting tables," Gideon told her. "I saw you when you got into your car. I even saw you when you got out of bed this morning."

Gatsby laughed. "How're you doing, Jason?"

"As well as can be expected."

"What's with the orange?"

"Doctor says I need to take vitamins."

"So take vitamins."

Gideon looked at Gatsby. "You come here to give me health advice?"

"Box seats, come on."

Gideon and Gatsby were in the box seats watching the race warm up.

"How's Spencer doing?" Gideon asked.

"Pretty good as far as I can tell," Gatsby replied. "Always got something cooking in his head."

"Is it good this time?"

"Yeah, it is. We need you on this one, Gideon."

"Look, Gatsby. I'm living a comfortable life. I do golf every Wednesday and Pilates every Saturday. I have a nice girl, Kelly. She's a Zumba instructor."

"Is she half your age?" Gatsby joked.

"Don't play with me. The point is I've changed."

"People like us don't change, Gideon," Gatsby said. "We either get better or get sloppy. But we don't change."

There was a lengthy silence. Then Gatsby broke it.

"Which one of these dogs are you betting on?"

"Number eight, Speed Glory."

The race started and Gatsby saw that Number eight was trailing behind.

"The one that's in last place?"

"He breaks late," Gideon reasoned. Everybody knows that." He looked at Gatsby. "So, are you going to treat me like a grown-up? At least tell me what the con is?"

Gatsby whispered something in Gideon's ear and the old man's expression turned from irritation to shock. Seeing Gideon's expression, Gatsby smiled, patted his shoulder and left. Gideon couldn't fathom what Gatsby just said. He simply tore his tickets up and tried to breathe to keep his heart from beating faster.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Spencer and Gatsby were sitting in a dark bar. Gatsby was sitting with her head on her arms staring blankly at the TV.

"Gideon makes ten," Spencer reasoned. "Ten should do it don't you think?" Gatsby said nothing. "You think we need one more?" More silence. "You think we need one more." She was still saying absolutely nothing. "Alright, we'll get one more."

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

_**CHICAGO**_

* * *

She was young, but she had great talent. Albeit, she stole from the rich losers and jerks, but she was great at stealing from other people. The blond-haired, blue-eyed teen quickly stole her target's wallet and pocketed it. What she didn't notice was a tall, brown-haired man pick pocketing her. When she got to the corner, she dug in her pocket to take out the wallet only to find a business card with the message "Emmett's Pub" on the back and Dr. Spencer Reid on the front. She quickly looked around to see if she could spot anyone who looked suspicious. She entered the bar and spotted a tall, lanky man around 30-years-old sitting on a bar stool at a table and walked over to him.

"Hello, Ashley," said Spencer. "Who does this belong to?" He held up the wallet. Ashley Seaver shook her head.

"Who are you?" She asked.

"A friend of Jennifer Jareau's," Spencer replied. Ashley shook her head and smirked. Her sister had quite a reputation as a thief and it envied her so that she couldn't be in that same caliber. She saw Spencer put a piece of paper on the table.

"You're either in or out, right now," he said.

Ashley sat down. "What is it?" She asked curiously.

"It's a plane ticket, genius; a job offer."

Ashley's eyes widened as she never expected him to say that.

"You're very trusting pretty fast."

"Well, JJ has a lot of faith in you."

"Yeah, sisters are like that." Spencer's eyes widened. "Oh, you didn't know? Yeah, she doesn't want me "trading" under her name."

"Well, you do this job, you'll be trading under your own name. Or if you're too scared to play with the big boys you can always go back to filling up stockbrokers." To the bartender, Spencer said: "Can I get the check please?"

As Spencer turned back around, he noticed that Ashley grabbed the ticket from under his hand and was very surprised.

"That's the best lift I've seen you make, yet."

"Las Vegas, seriously?" Ashley asked with disbelief.

"America's playground," Spencer smiled while drinking his beer.

* * *

_**A/N: First two chapters! What do you think? First Criminal minds Incarnation of Ocean's eleven! Please Reid and Review!**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The ordinary taxi van pulled into the mansion's drive of one David Rossi. Rossi opened the door with Derek behind him to see a group of people that looked like they didn't belong anywhere near an Italian don.

"What, did you guys get a group rate or something?" He asked the rag-tag group.

They walked through his house and out the back door to the pool area. Parker was building something using playing cards with Derek watching intently. Others were talking; either catching up or discussing business.

"So, you ever been to Santa Barbara?" Eliot asked Gideon.

"No, not really." Gideon replied.

"You should, they have some nice activities and businesses there."

Gideon looked at the younger man. "I'll hold you up to that."

At that moment, Spencer Reid came out to the pool area.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Las Vegas," he said. Everyone stopped talking and started to pay close attention to him. "Has everyone eaten? Good. Everybody sober? Close enough. All right, before we get started, no one's committed yet. What I'm about to propose is highly crazy, highly dangerous and highly illegal. If that doesn't seem like your typical kind of vodka, eat as much as you like and have a safe journey home; no hard feelings. Otherwise, come with me."

Everyone except Ashley got up to go into the house and Rossi noticed and walked over to her.

"You're JJ's Little Sis," he said. "From Chicago?"

"Yeah, yeah I am," replied Ashley.

"It's nice out there, do you like it?"

"It's okay." Ashley was fidgeting with her fingers.

"That's wonderful. Get in the goddamn house." Ashley was a little taken aback at what he said but did as she was told anyway while Rossi smirked. No one wanted to get on his bad side.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11 **

* * *

"The 3000 block of Las Vegas Blvd.," Spencer began. He was standing beside a large flat-screen TV that showed the layout of what they were about to do. "Otherwise known as the Bellagio, the Mirage and the MGM Grand. Together, they're the most profitable casinos in Las Vegas." Garcia then changed what was on the TV. "This is the vault of the Bellagio, located below the Strip beneath 200 solid feet of earth. It houses every last dime that passes through the three casinos above it; and we're going to rob it."

"Smash and grab job, huh?" said a smirking Ashley.

"_Slightly _more complicated than that," Gatsby replied.

"Oh. Right."

Spencer continued: "This is courtesy of Derek Morgan, a new dealer at the Bellagio." Derek nodded from his place next to Parker. "Okay, bad news first; this place houses a security system that rivals most nuclear silos. First, we have to get into the casino cages, which anyone will tell you, takes more than a smile. Next, through these doors, each of which require a code that is changed every 12 hours. Past those, the elevator; this is where it gets tricky. The elevator won't move without a finger print I.D."

"Which we can't fake," Gatsby said with an almost robotic voice. She wasn't used to this many people in one place. Rossi put his hand on her shoulder and she relaxed somewhat.

"And vocal conformation from the system within the Bellagio and the vault below it."

"Which we won't get."

"Furthermore, the elevator is rigged with motion sensors."

"Meaning, if we were to manually override the lift, the exit would lock down and we'd be trapped." Gatsby said with finality.

"Once we get down the shaft, though, it's a piece of cake. Just two more guards with Uzis and the most elaborate vault door ever conceived by man. Any questions?" Spencer asked the last question brightly and Rossi smirked.

"Can't we tunnel underneath the vault?" Parker asked.

"No, tunneling is out. There are sensors monitoring the ground 200 feet in every direction. If a groundhog were to nest there, they'd know about it," Gatsby said. "Anyone else?"

"You said something about good news?" Shawn asked.

"Yeah," said Spencer. "The Nevada Gaming Commission requires that a casino must hold enough cash for every chip on the floor. That means on a weekday, it must carry between 60 and 70 million in cash and coin. On the weekend, between 80 and 90. On a fight night, like in two weeks, the night we're going to rob it…_160 million _without breaking a sweat. There are 11 of us each with an equal share. You do the math."

Eliot whistled.

"Exactly." Gatsby said.

"I have a question," Gideon said. "Say we get into the cage and through the security doors and down the elevator we can't move and past the guards with the guns, into the vault that we can't open…"

"Without being seen by the cameras," Gatsby added.

"Yeah, I forgot to mention that," said Spencer.

Gideon shook his head. "Yeah, well say we do all that…are we just suppose to walk out of there with 160 million dollars in cash on us without getting stopped?" Everyone looked at Spencer.

"Yeah," he said it like it was no big deal.

"Oh," Gideon said it like the world had gone topsy-turvy. "Okay then."

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

"Alright," said Spencer, "here's how we'll begin. First task: Reconnaissance. I want to know everything that's going on all casinos, from the dealers' rotation to the path of every cash cart. I want to know everything about every guard. I wanna know where they're from, what their nicknames are and how they take their coffee. Most of all, I want you guys to know these casinos. They were built like mazes to keep people in; I want you guys to know the quick routes out."

Shawn and Eliot were sitting at the table, examining a cash cart going into the back of the casino.

"There, he went in at 10:25," Shawn observed.

"It wasn't 10:25, it was 10:34," Eliot objected. "Get a watch that works."

"No, it was 10:25."

"No, it wasn't!"

"Okay, who's the better observer?"

"Obviously, not you."

The two brothers kept arguing about this all the way to the hotel room.

"Second task: Power." Spencer said. "On the night of the fight, we'll throw the switch off Sin City. Hotch, Ziva, that's your job."

"You want Broke, Blind, or Bedlam?" Ziva asked.

"How about all three?"

"Cool, it's done." Hotch smirked evilly.

"Third task: Surveillance. Security has an eye and ear on everything; so we want an eye and an ear on them. Garcia?"

"Well, it's not the _least _accessible system I've seen but it's very close," the eccentric hacker said. "I don't suppose they have a closed-circuit feed that I can tap into?"

"Nope," replied Spencer.

"Then it's definitely a Black Bag job. Do they employ an in-house technician?"

"Two," said Gatsby. "And one of them is lonely."

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

The technician was so mesmerized by the nurse stripper's boobs that he didn't even recognize the fact that his security badge was stolen by this charming vixen. After her 30 minutes were up, Charmaine went outside of the Crazy Horse Too and gave the badge to the young woman standing next to the Lexus.

"Thanks, Charmaine," said Gatsby. "I'll have this back in an hour. Say hi to your dad for me."

"Say hi yourself," Charmaine replied. "He'll be on in ten minutes."

Gatsby shook her head to get the mental picture out of her mind.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Shawn was walking through the Bellagio casino holding a bouquet of balloons

"Watch it, Bud!" said Eliot as his brother walked toward him.

"Who you callin' bud, Pal?" he retorted.

"Who you callin' pal, Jackass?!" Eliot shouted.

They started to argue and the bouquet of balloons floated up to cover a security camera.

"We have a visual impairment on the casino floor," said a security guard.

"Copy that, I see them," said the guard on the casino floor and he left, leaving the door wide open for Penelope Garcia to do her job without having to answer questions.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

"And we're up and running," Gatsby said as the computers came on in the hotel room.

"Why do they always paint hallways that color?" Spencer asked.

"They say taupe is a very soothing color."

"Oh, no," Spencer said as Penelope looked a little lost. Suddenly, a security guard started to follow her.

"Excuse me, miss?" He called out.

Penelope quickened her pace and headed for the door when the guard stopped her.

"Miss, you left this." He handed a small roaming device to Penelope.

Penelope sighed in relief. "Oh, thank you sir."

"How's the quality on those things?"

"Excellent. You have a good day."

Spencer sighed in relief as he watched Penelope make it without being caught. "I thought I was going to have a heart attack."

Gatsby just laughed at her friend.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11 **

* * *

Fourth task: Construction. We need to build an exact replica of the Bellagio vault." They were all in the warehouse getting materials ready.

"To practice?" asked Gatsby as she carried two paint cans.

"Something like that. Fifth task: Intelligence. We need those codes, Ashley, from the only man who has all three."

"Who, _Doyle?" _Ashley asked incredulously. He had never done a job that big before.

"Learn to love his shadow," Spencer replied.

"Wait, all I get to do is watch the guy?"

"You gotta walk before you can crawl."

"Reverse that," Gatsby snickered.

"Whatever. Sixth task: Transport."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Eliot and Shawn were testing out the vans they were planning to buy (more like playing with them) while Derek talked to the dealer.

"Well I am sorry, but $18, 500 a piece is the best offer I can make," said the dealer.

"Well, I understand," Derek replied. "There are some great looking vans."

"Yes, sir, top of the line."

"Okay, thank you for your time, Mr…?"

"Denham. Billy Tim Denham." They shook hands but Derek didn't let go.

"Denham like a jean."

"That's it. Just like the jean."

"Wow, you have some lovely hands here. Do you moisturize?" Derek was about to try a different tactic that required a little bit of force.

"I'm sorry?"

"I've tried lots of lotions. I even went fragrance free for a year. Now my sister, she uses Aloe Vera with a little sunscreen in it. And ideally, I think we all should wear gloves to bed but I found interference with my social agenda, if you know what I mean. Plus, I react to the camphor, gives me a rash. So, I'm not into the traditional remedies."

"Let me tell you something. If you could pay cash, I might drop that down to seven…" Derek squeezed his hand a little tighter. "Sixteen each."

"No?"  
"Yes, sir."

"You'd do that?"

"Yes, sir."

"That'd be lovely. They told me to come see you."

"Well, I'm glad they did. Well let me go get the paperwork. You just wait here at the table." Derek smirked as the man left.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Gideon was trying on new suits in Rossi's home to fit his role.

"This is very nice material."

"It's imported silk, Gideon." Spencer replied.

"It's very nice."

"Gentlemen, would you excuse us for a second? Thanks." The fitters left the room leaving Spencer, Gideon and Rossi. Spencer got up and started to walk over to Gideon.

"Jason, are you sure you're ready to do this?" He looked at Gideon who was definitely pissed off.

"If you ever ask me that question again, Spencer Reid, you won't wake up the following morning!"

Spencer turned to his godfather. "He's ready," he whispered to him as Rossi smirked at him."

"My name is Saul…Kowalski. My name is Saul Kowalski. My name is Saul Kowalski."

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Gideon was walking into the Bellagio with Eliot and Shawn as his bodyguards. They then walked by Gatsby and Ashley who were sitting on a bench.

"Okay," Gatsby said to Ashley, "tell me about Doyle."

"That guy's a machine," Ashley said unbelievably. "He arrives at the Bellagio every day at 2 p.m. He remembers every valets' name. Not bad for a guy worth three-quarters of a billion. Offices are upstairs; he works hard, hits the lobby floor at 7 on the dot. He spends three minutes talking with his casino manger."

"About what?"

"All business; Doyle likes to know what's going on, he likes to be in control. There's rarely an incident that he doesn't know about or handles personally. He spends a few minutes glad-handling the high rollers. He's fluent in Spanish, German, Italian, French and he's taking Japanese. Getting pretty good at it too. He's out by 7:30 and is handed a black portfolio. Contents: the days take and new security codes. He then heads to the restaurant."

Ian Doyle walked past them as Gatsby was eating a shrimp cocktail. She had to keep her figure somehow.

"Like I said, a machine." Ashley concluded.

"And that portfolio contains codes to all the cage doors?" Gatsby asked just to clarify.

"Yep. And two minutes after they're changed, he's got them in his hand." She sighed. "You guys sure know how to pick them. This guy's as smart as he is ruthless. The last guy he caught cheating, he not only sent him up for ten years but he had the bank seize his house and bankrupted his…"

"Brother-in-law's dealership; I heard."

"He not only takes out your knees but he ruins your life and anybody you know."

"You scared, Ashley?"

"You suicidal, Gatsby?" Ashley asked heatedly.

"Only in the morning, honey," Gatsby smirked. "Now what?"

"Now here comes the girl. She comes down after him if they're in a snit."

"Where she comes from?" Gatsby asked.

"The museum, there. She's the curator. Now, I'm no Lesbian, but this woman is very beautiful."

"You're sure you're not bi?" Gatsby smirked.

"Shut up." Ashley looked towards the stairs. "There she is; this is just the best part of my day."

Gatsby looked up to see who could possibly get Ian and Ashley's attention before she quickly turned back around. The woman had long black hair and beautiful green eyes. She was also wearing a forest green suit.

"I'm not sure if we can use her yet," Ashley said. "I haven't even caught her name actually."

"Emily," Gatsby said as she sighed.

"What?" Ashley was knocked out of her daydream.

"Her name is Emily." Ashley looked more confused than ever.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

The replica vault was almost finished and Spencer was watching as everyone continue to build. Gatsby quickly walked up to him.

"We have to talk," she whispered.

"Okay." Spencer said nonchalantly.

"Now!"

"Okay," Spencer looked at his friend as they went out of the warehouse.

"Tell me this isn't about her or I'm _walking_. I'm walking from this job, right now!"

"Who?" Spencer asked confusedly.

"Emily. Ian Doyle. Tell me this isn't about screwing the guy who's screwing your wife."

"_Ex-wife," _Spencer corrected.

"Tell me!" Gatsby persisted.

"It's not about that." He paused. "It's not _entirely _about that. Do you remember when we first got into this business? We'd say we'd play like we had nothing…"

"Nothing to lose. What's your point?"

"My point is, I lost something. I lost someone. That's why I'm here."

Gatsby sighed as she rubbed her forehead. "Look, here's the problem. Now we're stealing two things. And if push comes to shove and you can't have both, which do you chose?" Gatsby cut Spencer off as she pointed to the rest of the gang. "And remember, Emily does not spilt eleven ways."

"If everything goes to plan, I won't be the one to make that decision. How'd she look?"

"She looked good."

"Thanks." That word had a lot of implied meaning in it. They were friends since high school and they stick by each other.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Emily was in the museum looking at the latest painting that she acquired as Ian walked in.

"You like it?" She asked him.

"I like that you like it," Doyle replied with a smile. "I'll see you tonight?"

"Okay," she replied. She leaned in for a kiss but he reeled his body back and she looked at the camera behind her.

"In my hotel, there's always somebody watching," he said. "I'll see you tonight." He turned around and walked away. Emily wondered how she came to be with a man like him. She admitted that everyone liked their privacy, but they still made it clear whether or not they had someone.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11 **

* * *

Gideon, posing as Saul Kowalski, was sitting at the high rollers table playing poker and eating chocolate.

"How are you, Teddy?" asked Ian as he walked up to the high rollers manager.

"Fine, sir."

"Anything for me?"

"A Mr. Saul Kowalski in the third position. He wants to speak to you privately."

"Who is he?"

"Business man of some kind from D.C.; very vague. I asked around. Word is, he deals mostly in guns; one of the biggest.

"Kowalski?" Doyle clarified.

"Yes, sir.

"Never heard of him."

"That's why I don't doubt it."

"He's staying here?"

"He's in the Mirador suite. Checked in two nights ago."

"How's he doing?"

"Up, almost 200."

"Good for him," said Ian as he started to walk toward Gideon.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Emily was sitting at a table in the hotel restaurant, waiting for Doyle to show up. It was routine for him to be late; she always came second to his clients. It was getting a bit tiring, maybe she didn't love him. She was wearing a black dress with a diamond necklace and earrings that set off her green eyes nicely. She suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder and smiled.

"You're 30 seconds late. I was about to send out a search…" she stopped as she looked at the hand's owner.

"Hello, Emily." Spencer said as he looked down at her. She definitely didn't expect him.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm out."

"You're out?"

"Of prison. You remember, I went out to get you that pack of cigarettes and never came back."

"You know I don't smoke. Don't sit." He sat anyway. She didn't know if she would be able to see him again; alone.

"Now, they tell me that I'd paid my debt to society."

"Funny, I never got the check." Spencer smirked as he ordered a whiskey.

"You're not wearing you're wedding ring."

"I sold it. I don't have a husband, or didn't you get the papers?"

"My last day in the joint."

"I'd told you I'd write." He nodded. "Spencer, go now before…"

"What, Doyle?" She looked at him surprised.

"Spencer…"  
"Emily, you're doing a great job at the museum. The Vermeer is very good. It's simple, vibrant, although his work fell off in later years."

"Remind you of anyone?" He ignored her jab at him.

"Now I always confuse Monet and Manet. Which one married his mistress?"

"Monet."

"Right, and Manet had syphilis." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"They also _painted _occasionally." Spencer smiled; she could still hold her own with him.

"Alright, I'll make this quick. I came here for you. I want to get on with my life and I want you with me."

"You're a thief and a liar."

"I only lied about being a thief. I don't do that anymore.

"Steal?" Emily asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Lie," Spencer quickly countered.

"I'm with someone who doesn't have to make that kind of distinction."

"No, he's very clear on both."

"You know what you're problem is?"

"That I only have one?" The battle of wits was still on.

"You've met too many people like you. I'm with Ian now."

"Does he make you laugh?" Spencer asked soberly.

"He doesn't make me cry." Emily said.

Spencer sighed and knew that he'd never be able to take her pain away.

* * *

**_A/N: Reid and Review. Please tell me what you think!_**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Mr. Doyle, the fight is Saturday night, is it not?" Gideon, posing as Saul, asked Ian.

"Yes, would you like some tickets?" Ian asked.

"No, boxing doesn't interest me much. I have a package arriving here that evening. A black briefcase, standard size…the contents of which are very valuable to me."

Ian nodded. "I'll put it in the house safe for you." Saul shook his head with a smile.

"The house safe is for Brandy and grandmother's pearls. I need something more secure."

"Mr. Kowalski, I can assure you that our house is very…"

"And I can assure you, Mr. Doyle, that your generosity in this matter will not go overlooked. Now, what can you offer me besides the safe?"

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

"See, the people that you steal from have insurance," Emily told Spencer. "They get made whole again. I had to leave Quantico to get away from all that. How am I going to get all that time back?"

"You can't, but what you can do is not throw away anymore…"

"You don't know anything!" she cut him off.

"Emily, alright!" Spencer was getting fed up now. "You don't love me, you wanna make a life with someone else, fine. I'm gonna have to live with that, but not with him."

Emily rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Spoken like a true ex-husband."

"I'm not joking, Emily."

"I'm not laughing, Spencer. You have to admit that there's a conflict of interest when you give me advice about my love life."

"Yes," Spencer conceded, "but that doesn't mean that I'm wrong." Emily stared at him.

"Do you remember what I told you when we first met?"

"Of course, I have an eidetic memory. You said that I'd better know what I'm doing."

"Do you, now?" Because truly, you should walk away if you don't." She was concerned for him, he knew it. Maybe she still felt the same way he did.

"I know what I'm doing," he said confidently to ease her pain.

"What are you doing?" asked a new voice. They looked up to see Ian Doyle standing behind them.

"Just catching up is all," Spencer said as he stood up.

"Ian, meet my ex-husband."

"Dr. Spencer Reid." He held out his hand.

"Dr. Reid," Ian said but didn't shake Spencer's hand.

"I'm in your seat." He gestured toward his vacant seat, which Ian took.

"Forgive me for being late," Ian said to Emily as he ignored Spencer. "A guest required my attention."

"That's fine. Spencer was just walking through the restaurant and spotted me."

"Yeah, imagine the odds," Spencer said while playing with his wedding band.

"Of all the gin joints in all the world. You were recently released from prison, is that right, mate?" Emily noticed that Spencer was still playing with his ring. He only did that when he was deep in thought and that was something he never really had to do a lot of.

"That's right," Spencer said.

"How's Adam doing?" Ian smirked.

"I wouldn't know, I heard that he was seeing some Hollywood actress." He knew what Ian was trying to do but he never really associated with Adam Jackson.

"Spencer was about to…" Emily started.

"I just stopped by to say hi to Emily for old time's sake."

"Stay and have a drink, mate," Ian said.

"I can't."

"He can't."

Spencer and Emily shared mutual laughs, surprised that they were still on the same wavelength, but Ian was not happy.

"Well then," Ian said, interrupting their gazing. "I don't imagine that we'll be seeing Dr. Reid anytime soon." He grabbed Emily's hand, which made her smile slightly.

"You never know," Spencer retorted, rolling his eyes.

"Ah, but I know everything that goes on in my hotels."

"So I should put those towels back?" Spencer asked sarcastically.

"No, the towels you can keep." Ian kissed Emily's hand.

"Good to see you, Emily," Spencer said as he sighed.

"Take care, Spencer," she said softly.

"Ian," Spencer ground out.

"Spencer," Ian said coolly.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Spencer went up the escalator, halfway ticked off; but what he didn't see was the blond-haired Ashley Seaver following him.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Hotch and Ziva were in their hotel room making Gideon's "gems" while looking at the television so that they could see Rossi.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Outside, there was a crowd of people waiting outside for Grassland's demise. On top of the dais was Rossi, Ian, Emily and two dudes that were to detonate it. Standing in the crowd was Spencer who was being watched, without knowing, by Ashley. The men prepared to push the lever and everyone, except Ashley and Spencer, turned to see. You never take your eyes off your target.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Hotch and Ziva were watching it on television (with Ziva massaging Hotch's back), oblivious to what was happening right outside their window. Suddenly, their lights flickered and went off.

Ziva stopped massaging. "Aaron, what just happened?"

Hotch sighed and grabbed his coat. "Our worst nightmare."

They went out of the room; Hotch spilling curses out of his mouth as Ziva put a "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door."

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

"Tomorrow, the day is yours. Do with it what you like," Spencer said. "Call is at 5:30, makeup and costume. Gideon's package arrives at 7:05. Ashley grabs our codes. All goes well, we're a go. At 7:30, Parker gets locked in and we're committed. From this point on, we have thirty minutes to blow the power or she suffocates."

Shawn was pushing a cash cart into the mockup vault in a security outfit. Parker started to climb out of the cash cart after Shawn left and got into position.

"Okay," said Gatsby as she walked across the floor. "You're in the middle of the room, 10 feet from everything. You have to get from there to the door without touching the floor. What do you do?"

"Ten says she shorts it," Eliot said.

"Twenty," everyone else said.

Parker was not fazed by the betting going on and made a perfect backflip on the shelf behind her. Everyone clapped, awed.

"Window or aisle, guys," said Ziva who just came in with a dirty-looking Hotch.

"Yeah, we're in deep shit!" Hotch added. (Not a very good pun with what he was looking like) "That retarded demo crew didn't back the main line! They only jacked up the mainframe, jacked it right up!"

Hotch took off his filthy shirt, making Gatsby, Parker and Derek turn their noses.

"Is anyone understanding him?" Rossi asked. She just couldn't understand what Hotch was talking about when he was angry.

"I'll explain later," Garcia said.

"Listen, they're so freaking retarded that they blew up the backup grids one by one. Stupid sons of…"

"Okay, Hotch!" Spencer cut him off. "We get it, you're upset." To Ziva, he asked: "Z, what happened?"

"They did the same thing we would've done, only by accident," Ziva explained. "The problem is that now they know their weakness and they're fixing it."

"So?"

"So unless we intend to do this job in Reno, we're in Barney." Hotch finished. Everyone was totally confused.

"Barney Rubble. _Trouble!_" Ziva translated. "Don't you guys know British slang?"

"Well," Spencer whispered to Gatsby, "we could always…"

"By tomorrow?" Gatsby shook her head.

"Hang on a minute, hang on. We could use a pinch!" Ziva suggested.

Hotch's sober expression suddenly turned gleeful.

"That's an awesome idea. Baby, I love the way you think!"

"I know," Ziva smiled.

They leaned forward to kiss only to be interrupted by Gatsby's throat clearing.

"Excuse me, love birds," she said. "We're still clueless."

"Yeah, what is a pinch?" Spencer added.

"A pinch is a device that creates a cardiac arrest for broadband circuitry," Hotch explained. "Better yet, a pinch is a bomb but without the bomb."

"You see, when a nuclear weapon detonates, it releases an electromagnetic pulse which shuts down any power source within its blast radius," Ziva added. "It doesn't usually matter because a nuclear weapon destroys anything you may need power for anyway."

"But a Pinch creates a similar pulse but without mass destruction or death." Hotch concluded. "So instead of Hiroshima, you'd be getting 17th century.

"How long?" asked Gatsby.

"About 30 seconds."

"Could a pinch knockout the power of an entire city? Like for instance…"

"Las Vegas?" Ziva said as she traded lopsided smiles with Hotch. "Yeah, we think it might. But there's only one pinch big enough in the world to manage it."

"Where?" Spencer asked.

"Well…" Hotch and Ziva trailed off.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

* * *

**_SACREMENTO_**

* * *

The van pulled up into the lab's parking lot and stopped just outside the back doors.

"Let's go, Parker, Hotch, Ziva, come on." Spencer said as the four of them got out of the van. "Where are you going?" he asked Ashley as she was about to get out also.

"I'm going with you," Ashley replied, confused.

"No," Spencer said as he shut the door in Ashley's face.

"Oh, no, no don't leave me with these guys!"

Spencer picked the door and the four drifters went inside the building.

"Alright, start." Shawn said to Eliot who was in the driver's seat.

"I got one." Eliot said.

"You're thinking of one?"

"No, I've already got one."

"So you're thinking of one?"

"NO, I'm done! I have it."

"Are you a man?" Shawn asked.

"Yes, 19."

"Are you alive?"

"Yes, 18."

"Evel Kenievel." Eliot cursed and Shawn laughed as they continued to play games that Ashley knew would eventually turn into a fighting match and when that happened, he promptly left the building. But as she was going in, the others were coming out of another door and when they were ready the van proceeded to drive away.

"Alright," said Hotch. "We're gonna need a bunch of car batteries…"

"Where's Ashley?" Spencer asked.

"What?"

"Where's Ashley?"

The van made a sudden stop as Hotch, Parker, Spencer & Ziva opened the side door and looked behind them at the building. They saw Ashley running from the security guards. "There she is." Spencer said.

"Oh, would you look at this dimwit," Ziva groaned.

"She looks like a desperate Packman running away from a bunch of hungry ghosts," Parker observed. Everyone just looked at her.

"Should someone help her?" Shawn asked.

"Great idea, Shawn," Hotch said sarcastically, "let's help her so we can all get caught."

There was a sudden crash as Ashley came out of the broken window.

"Back it up," Spencer said as he closed the door. When they got close enough, Ashley jumped onto the roof of the car. Parker and Ziva opened the rear door for her to get in but she rolled off the hood and got in the side door as the van took off.

"You _stupid bastard!" _Hotch screamed as Parker tried to close the doors. The van made a sudden sharp turn and the door smashed into Parker's fingers and she screamed. Ziva and Hotch immediately rushed to the girl's side.

"I say stay in the van, you stay in the van, got it?!" Spencer scolded Ashley.

"I got it." Ashley replied.

"You lose focus in this game for _one second _and…"

"I said I got it, okay!"

"Oh, God it hurts like Hades!" Parker cried. Ziva and Hotch tried to comfort her but she kept crying and muttering German phrases.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

"Where are they?" Rossi asked as he paced the hotel room. "That's what I want to know; where the hell are they?!"

"They will be here, David," Gideon said from his place on the couch in front of the TV.

"They will be here, David," Rossi mocked. He rolled his eyes as he continued to pace. Even a Don's patience could wear thin.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

The white van pulled in front of the Bellagio and Spencer and Ashley got out and walked toward Gatsby who was eating ice cream. They didn't say a word to each other.

"You guys had a nice trip?" Gatsby asked as they got into the elevator. They said nothing and she sighed. This was why she didn't like to talk unless it was necessary. They got off the elevator only to be face to face with Garcia.

"We got a problem," she said. "You've been red-flagged," she told Spencer who was now sitting at the bar counter and looking at a piece of paper. "It means the moment you set foot on that casino floor, they'll be watching you. Like hawks…hawks with video cameras."

"That's a problem," Spencer said as he handed Gatsby the sheet.

"Gideon, turn that off, will you?" Gatsby asked.

"I'll turn it off when I'm ready to…"

"GIDEON!" Gatsby yelled, which surprised Gideon. Gatsby was never one to be that way.

"Alright, it's off, it's off." Gideon turned off the television and got up.

"Any idea how this happened?" Gatsby asked Spencer.

"No," Spencer replied.

"Oh, please," Ashley retorted and everyone looked at her. "He's been chasing Doyle's girl. The two of them got into an argument two nights ago. She looked at Spencer. "I was tailing you."

"And who told you to do that?" Spencer asked angrily.

"I did," Gatsby said as she looked at Spencer. "I was concerned that you couldn't leave Emily alone."

Penelope gasped. "Oh my God, _Emily Prentiss?!"_

"Who's Emily?" Rossi asked from the couch.

"My wife," Spencer replied and Rossi's eyes bugged out. How did he not know that about his godson? Emily Prentiss was the daughter of a well-known American Ambassador.

"_Ex-wife," _Gatsby pointedly corrected.

"Emily is here?" Gideon asked.

"I'm sorry," Gatsby said. "I didn't think it'll sting you but it did. You're out, Spencer."

"He's out?!" Rossi asked incredulously.

"It's either that or we call the whole thing off. His involvement puts us all at risk."

"This is not your call," Spencer said heatedly.

"You made it my call," Gatsby said. She didn't like to talk much but she would have to now since Spencer was out of the picture. "When you put her before us, you made it mine."

"This is _my job!" _

"Not anymore."

"Wait, wait, wait; he just can't be out," Rossi said. "Who's going to trigger the vault?"

Gatsby looked at Ashley. "Kid, you're up for it?" she asked.

Ashley looked taken aback to being called a kid but she did want the job. Spencer glared at Ashley, which she tried to ignore.

"I can do it," Ashley replied shakily.

"Done," Gatsby said, frustrated with the whole thing. "Locate the others, let them know the change in plans. Curtain goes up in seven."

"Emily is with _Doyle _now?" Gideon asked. "She's too tall for him." Spencer rolled his eyes and sighed.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Ian Doyle was on the phone in his suite while playing golf.

"Yes," he said into the phone as he took his shot. "No…very much no…Well then inform Mr. Levin that he'll be better off watching the fight from his TV at home. Surely, he must have HBO. That is it, mate."

He hung up the phone and walked toward the bathroom where Emily was getting ready.

"Hi," he said to her in the mirror and she smiled. "What are you thinking about?"

"You," she replied but her mind was on a certain tall, lanky genius with hazel eyes.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

"Where are you gonna put your hands?" Gatsby asked Ashley who was dressed in preppy blue and white skirt and cardigan with her hair tied in a French bun and clear glasses on. Ashley put her hands on the briefcase.

"No good," Gatsby replied with a smile. "Don't touch your shirt, look at me. Okay, I ask a question and you think of the answer, where do you look?" Ashley looked down. "No good, down they know you're lying and up they know that you don't know the truth. Don't use seven words when four will do. Don't shift your weight; look always at your mark but don't stare. Be specific but not memorable. Be funny but don't make him laugh. He's got to _like you _then _forget about you_ once you leave. And for God's sake, whatever you do, don't under any circumstances…"

"Gatsby!" Garcia called.

"Yeah?" Gatsby replied.

"Can you take a look at this?"

"Sure." She got up, leaving a nervous and terrified Ashley in her wake. Gatsby walked to Gideon's room to see him leaning on the bed, trying to catch his breath.

"Gideon," she said. "It's time."

Gideon nodded and put on his coat as he got up and looked in the mirror to straighten his tie.

"Okay," he said. "Let's do it."


	7. Chapter 7

**CHPATER 7**

* * *

_On a perfectly clear night in Las Vegas, and with the expected crowd of celebrities and eager sports fans piling in to the MGM Grand, the two biggest heavyweights in the world prepare to meet after an eight-month dance around and toward each other._

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Ian walked out of the casino toward "Saul" who was waiting for his package.

"Mr. Kowalski?" he said as he came up beside Gideon.

"Mr. Doyle," Gideon replied without looking at Ian.

"I'm very busy tonight. Are we on schedule?" he asked bluntly and Gideon smirked.

"I have no reason to suspect otherwise," Gideon said. "My couriers should be here momentarily." At that point, a black Lincoln rolled up to the curb of the hotel and Shawn and Eliot stepped out with Eliot holding the briefcase. He then cuffed the case to Gideon's wrist after some D.C. slang was exchanged.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

"Eighteen; Blackjack!" Derek looked up from where he was dealing blackjack to see Gideon and the others coming down the aisle. Ian looked to the right to see Spencer sitting at a slot machine. He quickly motioned to one of his guards.

"Find Mr. Hankel. Tell him Dr. Reid is in the west slots." The guard nodded and went off to do his boss' bidding. "I'm afraid I can't have any private security personnel in the casino cages," he said to Saul. "I hope you understand."

"Of course," Saul answered. He had expected that. What he didn't expect was someone to blow his cover.

"Jason! Jason Gideon!"

Gideon's eyes went wide behind his sunglasses. His face was expressionless. Ian looked at Gideon suspiciously as he looked at the owner of the voice.

The men looked at Shawn and Eliot grabbing hold of a dishelved man with a bad suntan.

"Giddy, it's me! Bettin' Pete, from Sarasota!" The man said.

Gideon took one look at the man. "Ruben. Ishmael."

Shawn and Eliot nodded and they took Bettin' Pete away from the scene. Gideon turned to Ian.

"Mr. Doyle, please. I have never enjoyed the touch of steel to my skin." Doyle just smirked as they continued their destination. Once they got there, Ian then proceeded to check the briefcase.

"Lift them up," he told Saul who complied and lifted the jewels. Ian continued his procedure until he was satisfied. "Mr. Kowalski, I acknowledge that your briefcase contains no dangerous or illicit material and I further agree to take said briefcase and store it in my vault for a period of 24 hours. Now I cannot actually allow you to accompany the briefcase into the vault."

"Why not?" Saul didn't foresee this happening either and Ian smirked.

"Well, insurance for one, security for another; but most of all, I just don't trust you." Gideon smirked; Ian was a hard guy to get by. There was a knock on the door and Ian excused himself to answer it. Tobias Hankel walked in and talked to Doyle in a small voice.

"I put two plainclothes on Reid. He's in the Keno bar now." Doyle nodded and walked toward Saul.

"Mr. Kowalski, this is my casino manager, Mr. Tobias Hankel. If you will allow him, he will have your briefcase stored in your vault while you watch. Those are my terms: yes or no?"

"You leave me no choice," Gideon sighed as he uncuffed his hand.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11 **

* * *

Shawn and Eliot, in waiter's outfits, rolled the dinning cart into the back entrance to the hotel and through a series of hallways until they reached the room with the rest of the drifters.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Ashley was standing by a pillar, waiting for Ian to come out.

"Deep breaths; you'll do fine," came Garcia's voice through the earpiece.

"Thank you," Ashley said as she sighed.

"No sweat, chica. You're a natural. But don't screw up." Ashley was taken aback and glared at the security camera in which she knew Garcia would see.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Gatsby and Penelope laughed at Ashley's look as Shawn and Eliot pushed the cart into the room.

"Who get's the penne?" Eliot asked.

"Right here," Garcia replied as the boys lifted the tablecloth to reveal a casino cage beneath it.

"You ready?" Gatsby asked Parker as she finished wrapping her hand. The blond teen nodded.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

"This is our security center, where you'll oversee the casino and the vault," Ian told Gideon. "You'll be able to monitor your briefcase from here." Ian looked at his watch as Gideon looked on.

"Don't let me keep you," he said sincerely. The sooner Ian left the better.

"Mr. Kowalski."

"Mr. Doyle."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

* * *

"Ashley, you're up." Gatsby said through the walkie-talkie. Ashley's hair was in a French bun and she was wearing glasses.

"Got him," Ashley replied as she walked beside Doyle. "Mr. Doyle." Ian looked at her as he continued walking. "Hi, Susan Chester, Nevada Gaming Commission. I'm afraid I need a couple minutes of your time." Doyle looked at her and smirked.

"Anything for the NGC," he replied.

"Thank you, will you accompany to pit five, please?" As they walked to their destination, Emily was walking toward the restaurant. Unknown to her a pair of hazel eyes watched and followed her. And unknown to him, two huge men were following him.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

"When do you make the deposit?" Gatsby asked Shawn and Eliot.

"When we get your signal," Eliot replied.

"What do we look like a couple of idiots?" Shawn asked.

"Do you _really _want me to answer that?" Gatsby replied.

She was talking about "she-who-would-not-be-named." That quickly shut Shawn up as Parker began to get into the casino cage and Gatsby handed her an oxygen tank.

"Parker, how does it feel? You alright? You want something to read? A magazine?"

Parker gave Gatsby the finger and Gatsby looked taken aback and sighed.

"You don't have to be so mean," she told her. "Alright," she said aloud. "Counting down. Thirty minutes of breathing time starts now." Gatsby quickly closed the lid to the casino cage.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

"This just came to our attention this morning, Mr. Doyle," Ashley told Doyle as they watched the casino hands bring Derek over. "Apparently, he's got a record longer than my…well, it's long." Doyle sighed and opened his black case as a test for Ashley, which she failed when she looked into it. Doyle smirked.

"If he is who you say he is," he replied as he looked at Ashley who looked away. "You've been at the commission long?"

"About 18 months."

"You know Hal Lindley? Worked with him at all?" he looked at Ashley with curiosity. This would be the ultimate test.

"Not since he died last year," she said solemnly, which put Ian at ease as Derek and the casino hands walked up to them.

"Carl Buford? Susan Chester, Nevada Gaming Commission." She flashed a badge.

"What's going on here?" Carl asked, confusedly.

"It has come to our attention that…"Ashley abruptly stopped when Doyle started to speak.

"I think it would be better if we speak off the floor." He then led them away to a private conference room as Shawn and Eliot stepped out of the elevator in security outfits with the casino cage.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Spencer walked into the restaurant like a man on a mission just as Emily was about to be seated. When she looked at him, she quickly got up and marched toward him.

"Spencer, no; I want you out of here."

"Would you just give me a moment?" he asked desperately. She wasn't listening to him.

"I've had it! I want you gone!"

"Emily, come here," he pulled her into a secluded place.

"You're up to something, Spencer, what? And don't say you came here for me. You're pulling a job, aren't you? Well, know this: no matter what it is, you won't win me back." She finally stopped speaking.

"Emily, I just came to say goodbye." Emily bristled at the comment as she didn't think he would say that.

"Goodbye," she whispered to him, a bit sadly. Spencer hesitantly kissed her on the cheek; a nervous, sloppy kiss which would always remind them of their younger years, their college years.

"You be good," he told her sadly as he walked out of the restaurant. It took Emily a few seconds to regain her composure and she sat back down at her seat.

Spencer found his exit blocked by the two huge men that were following him.

"Dr. Reid," one said.

"Mr. Doyle wishes to see you," the other said.

"I thought he might," Spencer said with a small smirk.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

* * *

"Good afternoon, Mr. Buford," said Susan as she looked into her briefcase. "Or should I call you Mr. Morgan?" Derek said nothing. "You are Derek Morgan formerly of the Desert Inn, the Tropicana and the Illinois State Penitentiary, are you not?" Derek still said nothing. "I take it by your silence that you aren't going to refute that." Susan then turned to Doyle. "Mr. Doyle, I'm afraid you've employed an ex-convict. As you know…"

"Goddamn Cracker," Derek said suddenly and Doyle lifted an eyebrow and Susan blinked her eyes rapidly.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Derek replied. "A poor, black man can't get a decent job in this world. Is that it?"

"No that's' not it at all…"

"You want throw me out on the street?"

"I'm just trying to do my job, sir."

"Trying to do your job. What do you want me to do? Want me to get on the table and dance for you? Want me to shine your shoes? Want me to smile at you? Cause you definitely won't let me deal the cards. Might as well call it 'Whitejack!'"

"I don't know what to say to that," Susan said. Race has nothing to do with it." Derek snorted. "What a horrible thing to say, let alone think. Just horrible." She turned to Doyle. "Mr. Doyle, you of all people know that we at the NGC has always supported the hiring of colored…" she stopped as Derek leaped forward to grab at her. "No, I didn't mean it." She went to hide behind Doyle as Derek came upon her. Doyle pushed Susan behind himself and kept his eyes on Derek.

"Sit down," Doyle said forcefully to Derek as "Susan" locked eyes with Derek and gave a solid nod. "Sit Down!"

"You better talk to her," Derek said as he sat back in his seat.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

"She's got it," Gatsby said from the hotel room as she and Garcia watched from behind the cameras.

"Eliot, Shawn, deliver the package."

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Out on the casino floor, Shawn and Eliot were pushing a cash cart toward the money storage entrance only stopping to open the door.

"Where's your card?" Shawn asked his brother.

"I think I lost it." Eliot replied.

"Are you serious?! You're so _stupid, _do you know that?!" Their voices were getting louder and attracting more attention.

"You think it helps to call someone names when they're already upset?!"

"Hey," said the security guard at the door. "Keep it down."

"Sorry," said the brothers.

"Where did this come from?"

"High roller's room," said Shawn. "It's Mr. Doyle's stuff in here."

"Alright, Eddie, take this inside."

"To the count room?" Eddie asked.

"No, to the vault. Doyle's money goes into the vault; you know that." He then turned to the brothers. "Next time, just remember the card, and we won't run into this problem again."

The brothers nodded.

"Right."

"Sorry."

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

The security monitors showed that the two monkeys were escorting Spencer down a hallway and another showed a guard entering an elevator with the cash cart while the guard with the briefcase held it open for him.

"There's your briefcase now, Mr. Kowalski," Hankel said.

"Good," Saul replied as he ate some chocolate.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

"That's my cue," Gatsby said as she finished her tie. "Give Hotch and Ziva the go." Garcia nodded as Gatsby walked out of the hotel room.

"Bonnie, Clyde, what's your status?" No Answer came. "Ziva! Aaron!"

"Hey, Penelope! Only my girl calls me 'Aaron,'" Hotch replied.

"What's your status?" Garcia asked, annoyed.

"Don't worry, chica, we're almost there." Ziva said with a smirk as they parked in a deserted parking lot in the middle of Las Vegas.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Susan, Derek, Doyle and Hankel stepped out of the conference room.

"Tobias, show this man off the property," Doyle said. He then turned to Derek. "Don't ever set foot in my casino again." It was no idle threat, either."

"Sir," Hankel said as he led the way out of the building.

"Cracker!" Derek took one last shot at Susan.

"Oh, dear God," Susan flinched.

Mini-tornado averted, Doyle started to walk in the other direction, toward the exit of the building. As Susan felt for her cell phone, she noticed that it was missing.

"Crap, I forgot my cell phone, I'm sorry," she told Doyle, who quickly looked at his watch and sighed.

"Do you know your way back?"

"I do."

"Good." He didn't wait for a reply as he hurried off.

"Okay, well, you enjoy the fight." As she left Doyle, Ashley pulled out the security codes in a tiny envelope from her pocket and smirked as she walked toward the elevator.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

"So how much longer do you think Mr. Doyle's gonna be?" Spencer asked. He was sitting on a desk with the two monkeys watching. He smirked. "No cameras in this room, huh? Don't want anybody to know what goes on in here." He smirked again. "He's not coming, is he?" Just as he said that, there was a knock on the door. As the hired help opened it, two more goons entered the room. One was muscular built with long, messy blonde hair and a shadowed beard. The other was a huge guy, in every way. He was dressed like a bouncer.

"We're gonna step outside; leave you three to talk things over," said one of the twins. Spencer sighed and rolled his head from side to side.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

* * *

Back in security headquarters, Saul was watching the monitors as the case was being delivered to the vault. Unfortunately, it was placed on the newly delivered cash cart.

"Oh shit. That's not good," Garcia said to herself.

"There, does that satisfy you, Mr. Kowalski?" Hankel asked the business tycoon.

"Yes," Saul said as he loosened his tie from his neck. Sweat was now on his forehead. "I'm satisfied." He took a deep breath to calm himself but it did no good.

"Are you all right?" Hankel asked him.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm good."

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Spencer shook his head with his eyes down. "Alright," he said as he got up. Before he could get up any further, the big giant of a man hit him square in the jaw; his skinnier friend then held him back. Spencer held onto the desk, which he was previously sitting on before he hit it with his fist. "What the heck, Hurley?! Not until later."

"Sorry, Reid, I forgot," Hurley said as he ran his hand over his curly hair.

"Sorry, Spencer. You know how excited the guy gets," James Sawyer apologized.

"It's alright," Spencer said as he finally stood up and patted Hurley on the back. "That was a mean right hook though," To Sawyer, he asked: "How's Juliet?"

"Pregnant again." Sawyer shook his head.

"Well, it happens. Let's get started. You guys hold this for me." Sawyer and Hurley held the desk as Spencer climbed atop of it and disappeared to through the vent.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

David Rossi sat in the row behind Emily Prentiss-Reid, waiting for the fight to begin. The girl seemed out of sorts but Rossi could see why his godson liked her so much. She had a style all her own yet it was hindered by Doyle.

Each contender made their way to the ring with the crowd cheering and jeering in the background. Rossi smiled as Doyle finally sat down; for a moment there, he was worried. He looked at Emily again and hoped that the girl would not recognize her. She was Elizabeth Prentiss' daughter after all. The same little girl he babysat.

Rossi should've known but it had been a while since they had last seen each other as Elizabeth had sent her child off to boarding school in Italy and then a private college in France. He wondered how Spencer had met up with her but now was not the time to ponder on such things. The "show" would begin soon.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Ashley was quickly walking toward the elevator and adjusted her earpiece discreetly.

"You're almost there, Seaver," Garcia's voice came through the earpiece.

"Who's that girl?" asked one of the security guards, noticing the blonde haired youth walking down the hall. Saul's breath became even more labored as he saw Ashley on the screen.

"Hey, we got a bogey in the west corridor…" the guard didn't finish as Saul collapsed.

"Mr. Kowalski," Hankel said as he kneeled beside him. He felt for a pulse and panicked. He was supposed to be paying them big money so there was no way he would let this man die. "Someone get a doctor!" he yelled out as the guards hurried to fill his orders. No one noticed the screens flicker and Ashley's image disappear as she stepped into the elevator.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Ashley set down her briefcase and opened the hatch to the ceiling. She then picked up her briefcase and turned toward the hatch but it was blocked by a tall, lanky brown-haired man. Ashley got the fright of her life and nearly fainted.

"You _really _didn't think I was about to sit this one out, did you?" Spencer's eyes were mocking.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!" Ashley asked as she shoved the case toward Spencer. "And, what, you don't trust me?"

"I do now," Spencer said as he hoisted Ashley on top of the elevator.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

To Rossi, things were going slow back in the arena and he couldn't wait for things to be over. He was going to have a little chat with Spencer about how to keep a man so they wouldn't have to go through something like this again.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Gatsby was briskly walking toward the security center, disguised in a Twiggy wig and glasses while carrying a doctor's case.

"Did someone call for a doctor?" she asked the guard with a serious expression while laughing on the inside. This was going very well so far.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Spencer and Ashley opened the briefcase, removed the false top and took out their grappling hooks.

"So, how'd you get here?" Ashley asked and Spencer smirked.

"Gave two friends a million dollars each and one of them time away from his wife. Trust me, she's real mean when she's pregnant for the fourth time." Spencer put the device around his waist and made sure that it was secure.

"So, what about the whole argument with Gatsby? What was that all about?" Spencer smirked again and looked into his friend's eyes.

"Oh, come on," Ashley said with irritation. "Why'd you put me through all that? Why not just tell me?"

"We all had to go through it," Spencer answered as if it were obvious. "Besides, where's the fun in that?" Ashley just rolled her eyes and continued with her preparation.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

"Come on, man," Gatsby said as she did CPR on Saul. "Breathe! Breathe, damnit, breathe." Two medics (Shawn and Eliot) wheeled in a gurney as Gatsby sighed.

"Prepare the IV," one said as Gatsby shook her head sadly.

"No good, we've lost him," she wiped the sweat from her brow.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

The two goons smiled as they heard the noise in the room, happy that Mr. Doyle would be happy with Spencer Reid's fate. Little did they know that only Hurley and Sawyer were in the room pretending to beat up Spencer.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

"These things are gonna hold us, right?" Ashley asked nervously.

"They should," Spencer said with a shrug in his voice. Taking a deep breath, Spencer braced himself and hung away from the elevator into thin air. He sighed as he didn't fall. Seeing as her muscular friend didn't fall, Ashley got up the courage to do the same. When she looked at her friend, she nodded.

"Garcia, we're set," Spencer said into the earpiece.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Garcia, we're set," Gatsby said as she and the brothers rolled the gurney through the casino.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

"Ziva, Hotch, we're set," Garcia said through the walkie-talkie.

Ziva sighed. "Hang on a minute, Pen. We're almost done."

"We don't have a minute; Parker's gonna suffocate soon."

"Well, then don't you think you'd wanna leave us alone so we can finish?" Hotch growled as he and Ziva stepped away from the pinch. For good measure, they turned away from it, Hotch protected his genitals and Ziva pushed the trigger. Within an instant, all of Sin City was thrown into the dark ages.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

"Crack 'em," Spencer said as the elevator shaft was thrown into darkness. They both cracked the glow sticks and dropped them. "Go," Spencer said as soon as they hit the floor. The two released the locks and hurtled down the shaft. When they were six feet from the ground, the winches stopped. "Cut them," Spencer said. They both took out a knife and cut the cables. As soon as they hit the ground, the lights came on. Spencer groaned as he got up with Ashley not far behind.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Inside the arena, the spectators were standing up with wide eyes. As the lights came on, the fighters tried to get their best over the other and the crowd became chaotic. Ian had to push someone out of his way as he told Emily to grab her coat and shoved her out of the building. Rossi raised an eyebrow and smirked. Things were definitely going according to plan. Even the casino was in chaos and Rossi loved every minute of it. The Don was having his revenge.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Parker was confused as she pushed open the top of the casino cage. There was more weight so something must be on top of it. Once she was halfway through, she almost tumbled the whole thing from her surprise at the case being there. She quickly took note of the case's chain and grabbed it before it dropped on the ground. Parker then leaped out of the cage swiftly and opened the case.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

* * *

Ashley and Spencer quietly slid the elevator doors open. Seeing the two guards with Uzis, Spencer quickly slid a circular disk toward them and closed the door. Ashley heard a thud and was about to open the door until Spencer stopped her.

"Not yet," he said as he looked at his watch for a few more seconds. A second thump was heard and both of them went through the door.

"Do you think Parker made it out okay?" Ashley asked. Spencer could hear some concern coming through his friend's voice and smirked. Love triangles were serious business.

"Oh, I'm sure she's fine," Spencer replied as he bound the guards. Boy, was Derek in for a surprise!

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

"How are we doing, Baby Girl?" Derek asked as he came into the suite and sat down with Garcia.

"Okay, I guess. What took you so long?" She looked at him curiously.

"Security," Derek replied simply.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Ashley entered the codes to the first part of the vault and it immediately opened. Both of them looked at the next door in awe.

"There's an 115 pound girl with 160 million dollars behind this door."

"Actually 137," Ashley said. "Most of it in the muscles." Spencer rolled his eyes. Even he didn't know how much Emily weighed, just her clothing size.

"I'm not even going to go there; let's just get them out," he said. He knocked on the door twice but there was no answer.

"Try again," Ashley said.

He tried a second time.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

"Twenty says she shorts it," Derek said.

"No bet," Garcia replied as they intently watched the screen.

Parker misjudged the jump and almost landed on her back on the floor. Only her legs saved her. Derek and Garcia let out sighs of relief. Parker hoisted herself up, climbed from the shelf to the door and planted the bombs. She then pounded on the door.

On the other side, Spencer heard the pounds and started to set up things on his end.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

"Where we at, guys?" Hotch said as he and Ziva sat beside Derek and Garcia.

"Pins and floor sensors, now," Garcia replied.

"Blinder," Ziva murmured as she opened a beer and started to drink.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Parker planted her final set of bombs and pounded on the door again.

"Here we go," Spencer said as they stepped from the door. "Countdown begins now," she said. Ashley started to count.

Inside the vault, Parker couldn't move her arm as her bandage was stuck into the door.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

"Oh no," Garcia said. "Spencer, do not blow the door, do you hear me?"

"The pinch must've blown their earpieces out," Hotch said.

"Keep trying," Derek said frantically.

Parker closed her eyes, expecting to get blown to pieces.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

"Five, four, three, two, one," Ashley finished as Spencer pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. Spencer shook the device and pressed again. Still, nothing happened.

Parker blinked as she didn't feel the explosion and thanked every God in heaven for that. She quickly freed her hand and leaped for cover.

"What's wrong?" Ashley asked as Spencer shrugged. "Did you check the batteries?" Spencer glared Ashley who was smirking. "You know, you lose focus in this game for _one second…" _

"Yeah, yeah, I know, and someone gets hurt." They changed the batteries in the trigger. "You don't hear Parker complaining." His finger accidently hit the trigger and both friends covered their heads as the explosion was heard. They opened the vault door, stepped into the wreckage and looked around for Parker.

"Parker?" Spencer called. A cash cart was quickly thrown their way as Parker stepped from the wall.

"Where the fuck you been?!" she angrily asked with narrowed eyes.

"Sorry," Ashley and Spencer said as they packing the money.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

The rest of the gang, with the exception of Gatsby, watched Parker, Spencer, and Ashley collect the money in the hotel room.

"That's the sexiest thing I've ever seen," Gideon said. He was now in jeans and a blue plaid shirt.

"Yeah, she is," Derek smiled, referring to Parker.

Garcia looked at Derek. "You do know that Gideon was talking about the money, right Morgan?" she asked.

"Apples and oranges."

Rolling her eyes, Garcia gave Gatsby her cue. "Gatsby, it's your turn."

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

While on a semi-chaotic casino floor, Gatsby reached into her pocket and pulled out a silver prepaid phone to make her call.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

While walking away from the noisy arena, Emily was oblivious to the constant ringing until Doyle brought it to her attention.

"Aren't you going to answer that?" he asked with irritation lacing his voice.

"I don't have that ringtone." She reached into her pocket and pulled out the small device. "This isn't mine."

"see who it is," Doyle ordered and she obeyed.

"Hello?" she answered it.

"Put Mr. Doyle on the phone," said a familiar voice.

"It's for you," he handed it to him as he stopped walking.

"Who the hell is this?" Doyle asked.

"The person who's robbing you." Ian Doyle's eyes widened.

* * *

_**A/N: Hi! Zabe Rogue here! I got two more chapters to go…so PLEASE if you haven't done so already REVIEW! LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! I would greatly **_**_appreciate it! _**

_**Thanks!**_


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

* * *

Just as the security center of the Bellagio was finally quiet, it was disturbed by Doyle storming in with Emily right behind him.

"What the hell is going on in the vault?" he asked quickly.

"Nothing, sir," said a security guard as he brought up the image. "It's all normal." Doyle put the phone up to his ear again.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken; my vault is unbeatable," the Irish man smirked.

"Are you watching your monitors? Okay, keep watching." The monitors flicked as images of upright guards were replaced by unconscious, bound ones and a destroyed vault. "In this town, your luck can change just that quickly."

"Find out how much money's down there," Doyle said to Hankel who nodded.

_How the hell did that cell phone get in my pocket? _Emily thought. _I own a Galaxy S4, not a prepaid flip phone. Unless… _She remembered how Spencer kissed her cheek. He must've slipped the phone into her pocket. And, with Spencer, came Gatsby.

"Emily." There was a pause. "Emily." She was jolted out of her daydreams.

"Yes?" she said to Doyle.

"Perhaps you should…"

"Perhaps I should what?" she asked indignantly. He sighed.

"It would be better if you weren't around for this." Emily huffed and quickly strode out of the security center. "Alright," he said to the caller. "You've proven your point. You've broken into my vault. Congratulations, you're a dead lass."

"Maybe," was the calm reply.

"Maybe? How do you expect to leave? Do you honestly think I'd let you walk out of my casino doors?"

"No, you'll carry it out for us."

"And why would I do that?"

"As your manager's probably telling you, you have a little over 160 million in your vault." As she spoke, Hankel handed his boss the number of money in the vault on a slip of paper. "You may notice, we're only packing up about half of that; booby-trapped as insurance." Gatsby continued her stroll through the casino, not noticing the figure following her. "You let our half go, and you'll keep the rest of your money. That's the deal. If you try to stop us, we'll blow up both sets of cash." She turned around and came face to face with Emily Prentiss-Reid who had a glare that could rival Spencer's. "Mr. Doyle, you could lose 80 million privately or 160 million publicly. The choice is yours." Gatsby took the phone away from her face. "Hey, Emily. What's up?" she said in a charming voice.

"Make the call," Doyle told Hankel.

"911 emergency response," said a voice on the cordless phone.

"Where's Spencer?" Emily ground out, her eyes flashing.

"Spencer? He's fine; he's just giving his brain a rest. He requests that you go upstairs and watch TV."

"He does, does he?" She crossed her arms and Gatsby knew to tread carefully. They went to the same college after all.

"….three men have taken control of our vault." Hankel nodded to Doyle.

"Okay, we have a deal," Doyle said into the phone.

"You should learn to relax. Everything's fine, Emily. Trust me." She quickly walked away as Emily raised an eyebrow. "Great," she said into the phone and walked away. "Here's what you'll do." Gatsby was glad that Emily wasn't following her because she just might kill her.

"The guys in the vault will deposit six bags into the elevator, which will then rise to your cages. Three of your guards will carry the bags out of the casino. If they take more than twenty seconds to reach the floor or if there's been any indication that a switch has been made, we'll blow the money in the bags and the money in the vault."

"She's in the casino by the slots," Doyle whispered to a guard as he heard the ringing of the machines.

"Of course, I'm in the casino by the slots. In fact, I'm staying in your hotel. And I got two words for you: mini bar." Gatsby was having fun now. Nobody messed with her friends. "As soon as the guards hit the casino floor, a white, unmarked van is going to pull up in your valet station. Your guards will load the bags into the van's rear. If anyone so much as approaches the driver's door, we'll blow everything. When I hear the van's away and the money's secure, my men will leave the building. Once their safety is confirmed, you'll get your vault back."

"The S.W.A.T. team is here," Hankel whispered to his boss. Doyle nodded.

"Alright," Doyle said calmly to the caller, too calm. "I have complied with your every request, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes."

"Good. Because now I have one of my own: Run and hide, asshole. Run and hide. Because if you're picked up buying a $100,000 car in Newport Beach, I'll be sorely disappointed. I want my people to find you and when they do…" he laughed as his employees shuddered. "…rest assured, we won't hand you over to the police. So, my advice to you is this, run and hide. That is all I ask." He waited for a response but none came.

The abandoned, untraceable phone lay on a barstool in the empty suite.

"Mr. Doyle, our guys say that the van is headed for McCarren Airport," Hankel said.

"Get everybody into position; I want my vault back before that van hits the tarmac," Doyle replied.

* * *

The SWAT team on the scene was stealthily dropping down the deactivated elevator shaft that led to the vault.

"Night goggles on," said the SWAT leader through the walkie-talkie. "Prepare to cut power."

"Cutting power now," Doyle said as the lights where the team was went completely dark.

"Breaching elevator doors now. We have two guards, bound and unconscious. Wait a minute!"

"Guys, guys; someone's here!" said a frantic voice.

"Take them down now," the leader said.

Shots were heard, quickly followed by an explosion.

"I got him," said the panicked voice.

"Lights, lights. We need power now," said the leader.

"Give it to them," Doyle told the guards. The screens showed the illuminated hallway and vault. The SWAT team was aiding the guards but the vault looked blown to pieces. "What's going on, talk to me," Doyle said to the team.

"It appears that a high explosive device has been detonated, repeat, has been detonated," said the leader. "We will continue to search for survivors."

Doyle breathed nosily and turned to Hankel who shook in his shoes. "Tell them to take the van," he said as he started to exit the room. "And find out HOW THE BLOODY HELL THEY HACKED INTO MY SYSTEM!"

"Yes, sir." Hankel said quietly

* * *

The Bellagio team followed the van as it stopped beside a small jet. The team quickly got out of the cars and held out their guns. "Step out of the van," said the leader. Nothing happened. "Tires," he said to his teammates and they did as they were told and shot the tires. There was still no movement from within the van.

Doyle the damaged vault and was blowing out a little steam. He was interrupted by the SWAT team leader.

"Sir, our search found no suspects. Nor can we determine how they entered or exited the premises."

"Take your men and get out." The voice was deadly calm.

"Sir, may I suggest you wait outside until the bomb squad…"

"Now." The team leader shrugged.

"It's your vault. Blue team, move out!" They picked up their bags and left the tycoon alone.

"Tobias, where are we with the van?"

* * *

The team leader inched his way toward the driver's door and quickly opened it only to find that a robot was in the driver's seat. He lowered his gun and raised an eyebrow.

Across the lot from the van, a black sedan was parked. Shawn was grinning from ear to ear in the passenger seat as he looked at the guard's surprised face.

"Okay, I just wanna try something," he said as he started to move the van with his joystick, which freaked out the Bellagio team. "Ha, ha! Suck it, Bellagio!" Shawn saw one police officer try to chase the van and decided to play cat and mouse with him. "Come get the cheese, little mousy." Shawn smiled. Rossi finally had enough and smacked Shawn upside the head.

"Ow, what was that for?"

"Enough monkey business, just do it already!" Rossi replied.

"Okay, okay. Party-pooper." Shawn muttered as he pressed a red button on the remote control.

When he did, the back of the van exploded, startling the Bellagio police.


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/N: **__** I like to thank Dewaysha for the inspiration behind this story. Check out her version of Ocean's Eleven featuring the **_**_characters of X-Men Evolution called _****_Daniel's Eleven._****_ I wish people would've taken the time to review this story, but that's okay, hopefully you'll review in the near future. Enjoy this last chapter! Keep on believing, True Believers!_**

* * *

**Chapter 13**

* * *

"Mr. Doyle, they took the van, sir," Hankel said.

"And?"

"It appears that no one was actually driving the van, sir and there was no money in the bags."

"What was in them?"

"They were flyers sir, for hookers." Doyle sighed and put his head down before he suddenly remembered something.

"Tobias, cue the tape of the robbery," he told his head of security as he cleared a space in front of the vault.

"Yes sir, I'm looking at it now," Hankel replied.

"Does it say "Bellagio" on the vault floor?"

"No, it doesn't. I don't understand."

"We had it installed Tuesday. The images we saw of the men robbing us were a tape." His voice was shaking.

"What?"

"It was staged," Doyle said, losing his patience. Someone made a duplicate of my vault. What we saw on the monitors wasn't really happening."

"I don't understand," Hankel replied in a confused voice. "Where did all that money go?"

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

The SWAT team's footsteps echoed on the casino floor as they left the building and got into their truck. The leader of the team pushed her helmet up, revealing a soft, caramel face, brown hair and intense brown eyes. Gatsby adjusted her bag and wiped the sweat from her brow as she and her team left.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

**_FLASHBACK_**

* * *

_As the eye in the sky, Garcia clicked on some keys and intercepted the emergency call that Tobias Hankel made while the others sat motionlessly behind her. "911 emergency response."_

_ Gideon huffed and puffed as they all descended down the elevator shaft in a hurry._

_ "Night goggles on." Gatsby ordered in a professional tone. Shawn and Hotch each ready their automatic firing weapons coming up on his sides._

_ "Clear," Shawn told her, pulling his own goggles down, scanning the area and thus complying with "the leader's" command._

_ "Prepare to cut the power." Gatsby spoke into her wrist before readying her own visor and training her gun's laser sight on Spencer, Ashley and Parker, who were seated calmly on the 160 million take. Upon seeing the team, they, with the aid of Shawn and the others, began moving out the money out of the vault loading it into the SWAT bags._

_ "Breaching elevator doors now," she paused a moment letting the effect settle and noting that the three were now outside the vault, "we have two guards bound and unconscious-wait a minute…" Ziva taking her cue, popped a canister top and heaved it into the vault. "Guys! Guys! Someone's here!" Ashley shouted as she helped Shawn load the bags._

_ "Take him down now!" Shawn yelled!_

_ "I got him!" Gatsby shot her machine gun off, shielding her eyes, as the explosive Ziva sent in earlier did its work._

* * *

**_END FLASHBACK._**

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Gatsby and the others got into the SWAT van and Eliot safely drove them away. Doyle finally put all the pieces together and quickly exited the vault like a man on a mission. He stopped abruptly outside of the interrogation room. "Open it," he said to the twins. The inside revealed Hurley delivering a painful punch to Spencer's ribs and Sawyer throwing the young man to the ground. Spencer fell in a heap. Doyle knew that Spencer had been tortured once in his life before, which is probably why he didn't look too hurt.

"Ian," Spencer said mockingly as he slowly stood up straight. "How's the other fight going?"

"Did you have a hand in this?" Doyle asked calmly.

"Did I have my hand in what?" Spencer asked, out of breath. "The Cookie Jar?"

"Don't play games with me, lad." Doyle growled. "Now I'm going to ask you again. Did you have a hand in this?"

"Doyle, I don't know what you're talking about." Doyle smirked.

"Okay, you're free to go." He turned to the goons. "Show him out."

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

Upstairs in her lavish suite, Emily was pacing the floor quickly; worried, not of Doyle's incident, but for Spencer and Gatsby. The ringing of the phone jolted out of her worried thoughts. Suddenly stopping, she grabbed the phone and put the receiver to her ear.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Turn to channel 88," said a female voice on the other end.

"Who is this?" There was no answer as the caller hung up the phone. Emily quickly grabbed the remote and turned to the correct channel. What she saw was a hallway of the casino cages. As she continued to watch, Spencer emerged with Doyle right behind him.

"What happened, Ian? You get robbed or something?" Spencer asked mockingly.

"Stop," Doyle ordered. He then walked toward Spencer. "I'm gonna give you one last chance. Where's my money?"

"What if I told you I could get your money…if you give up Emily?" Spencer asked. "What would you say?" He was curious to know the answer. No moral-less man deserved Emily. Even he had morals sometimes.

"I would say yes," Doyle replied without regret or hesitation in his voice.

_Bastard! _Emily thought; which wasn't far from what Spencer was thinking. Who would willingly give up Emily? It was insane-then again, Ian Doyle was kind of insane.

"All right," Spencer said with a hint of sadness in his voice. "I know a guy; we were in the joint together." Emily quickly grabbed her jacket and purse and walked out of the suite. No one had ever disappointed her so greatly. Not even her mother. "Anybody who pulls a job within the Western U.S., he knows about it. Give me 72 hours, and I'll find out who took your money." Doyle nodded and smirked.

"You know a guy?" he asked. He turned to his goons once again. "Show Dr. Reid the exit and contact the police. I'm sure he's in violation of his parole."

"Yes, sir," one answered. They grabbed him and lead him out of the building.

Doyle pushed the button to the elevator and waited for it to come. When the doors opened, he was greeted with the sight of Emily. She glared at him with her green eyes and stormed out of the elevator.

"Emily," he called after her. She turned around.

"You of all people should know, Ian," she said. "In your hotel, there's always someone watching." She turned from him and quickly walked through the casino and out the doors as she thought about what she truly wanted. She looked around and finally saw Spencer being walked toward the police car by two officers. She hurried to catch up to them.

"Wait! Wait!" She finally caught up to them. "Wait, that's my husband!" She quickly shoved the two officers aside and hugged Spencer. "Oh, Spence," she called him by his pet name with a smirk, which was quickly answered.

"Emily, I told you. I knew what I was doing."

"I didn't."

He shrugged. "It's okay, it happens to the best of us," he joked with her. It was just like old times.

"Alright, let's go," said one officer.

"How long will you be?" she asked with a sad look.

"About three to six months, I guess." Spencer said, hiding his own sadness. He had to be strong for his girl. The officers closed the door after he got in and he winked at her through the window. She smiled sadly as she watched them drive away.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

David Rossi and the ten thieves stared at the majestic water display of the Bellagio. They did it; they had won and had a lot of fun along the way. One by one, each left. First, it was Gatsby Algérnon. After taking one last look at her friends, she left to go to Emily. They would wait out Spencer's sentence together since the young genius had no one to go to. She was sure that Emily would change that the first chance she got, though. Then it was the Shawn and Eliot Spencer, as they left for Santa Barbara to start their "private detective agency." Then, Derek Morgan and Parker, deciding to go on a date, after much coaxing from Parker. Penelope Garcia went off to do research for a fellow hacker of hers, Alec Hardison. Aaron Hotchner and Ziva David went off to do God-knows-what. Probably off to their humble abode and have all the "money sex" they can get. David Rossi bid the last remaining thieves adieu as he headed to his car and headed home. Ashley Seaver left for Chicago, decided to start a talent agency to train all potential "clients." Jason Gideon was the last to leave. He was happy that he did this job and was now 13 million richer. He would now go back to his life in Florida but he won't live so mediocrely anymore.

* * *

**R11*R11*R11*R11*R11*R11**

* * *

**_NEVADA STATE PENITENTARY-THREE TO SIX MONTHS LATER._**

* * *

Gatsby leaned against the gate to the prison while eating her big cheeseburger; waiting for her friend to come out. She was wearing a bright pink halter top, White pants, Pink denim jacket, a white hat with pink sunglasses on. Spencer walked up to her, his appearance shaggy and he still had on the same tux as the night of the heist.

"I hope you were the groom," Gatsby joked as she threw her burger into the bushes. She hated government facilities.

"Nicki minaj called, she wants her suit back," Spencer replied. They both smirked and walked towards Gatsby's car, a red Hummer v. "Thirteen Million and you drive this big piece of shit cross-country to pick me up?"

"I blew it all on the Pink Friday outfit," Gatsby replied seriously. Spencer laughed.

"Where are they?" He knew the monkeys would be around.

"Back row, silver sedan. Ten o'clock." They finally reached the truck. "I stopped to pick up your personal effects. I hope you don't mind." Spencer leaned his head in the driver's window toward the back and smirked.

"I'm not sure these belong to me," he said. Emily just smiled and took off her sunglasses as he got in. "Hi," he said as he put his arm around her.

"Hi," she replied with a smile. "We need to get Gatsby a man." Gatsby shook her head. She knew that she was going to say that.

"There's a Federal Prison down the road, they always have cute, well-behaved guys," Gatsby joked as she started the car.

"You know what I mean," Emily replied.

"I know. If you know a way for him to forgive me, I'm all ears."

"I'll find a way."

"Of that I have no doubt," Spencer replied. He looked down and saw that Emily was wearing her wedding ring. "You said that you sold this." He smirked at her.

"I did say that."

"Liar," Spencer said.

"Thief," Emily replied as Gatsby rolled her eyes. They were about to get into it, she could tell. Spencer smiled and kissed her as Gatsby sped down the street. The goon twins started their own car and followed after them, not knowing how deceptive their prey could be.

**_THE END?_**


End file.
